As long as your lips are still red
by Josy57
Summary: Her footsteps in the night only highten his impatience and his desire. She's walking straight to him, innocent and fragile. And all he can think about is the instant to come when he will take her and destroy her. Tonight, my lovely, you have a rendez-vous with death...


I can hear her walk quietly down the road. She still is too far to feel my presence. But I sure can feel hers. I can already imagine the fear in her eyes, the pain, her bones cracking, slowly being crushed, the melodious music of ripping cartilage.

She's getting closer now, so close that the sweet smell of her tender flesh caresses my nostrils. How old could she be? Fifteen, sixteen maybe, no more. No chance to defend herself, no hope to escape me.

Tonight, my lovely, you have a rendez-vous with death. Maybe if you were not so beautiful, I wouldn't be here, lurking in the shadows at the corner of this street, waiting for you. If you had been ugly, or even ordinary, you wouldn't have caught my eye that day. You were walking this town like tonight, innocent and unsuspecting. You were alone and yet smiling, at life, at the world, at this day and even at me, yes, poor child, even at me. If you had known how this smile would haunt me and the desires it would fuel, if you had only known…

Your steps sound even closer now, but it may just be my impatience shortening the distance, because the street is quite long, too long for you to reach its end so fast without running. And you're not even running, your breathing is still calm. Well, even if you were running, it wouldn't change much, your body is so frail I wouldn't even need to leap forward to catch you.

It's always in the chase that I find the pleasure of life, the pleasure and the beauty of it, right before I destroy it. I can hear every sound all around, every beat of your not yet panicked heart. I can hear the wind's soft silvery laugh has it whistles in your dark hair. I can hear your gentle breathing, holier than the most sacred of chants. I can almost make out the murmur of the blood under your skin. It's so harmonious but it will soon stain every pure thing you've ever owned.

What could you be thinking about, my dear girl, as you are so innocently walking to the one who will bring you to your death? I half imagine that you know I am here but that still, you accept your fate since you know that tonight you are mine, so entirely mine, mine and mine alone. It's crazy, isn't it? This deadly hunt would be so completely worthless, were you not the pray, because it's so easy, but still, it makes me so sentimental. Sometimes the pray falls for the predator, but the predator loves the pray, always.

This time, I am not mistaken, you're fast approaching. There's only a few feet separating us. I would like to tell you to savor them, to relish the beauty of the night around you, the dark opacity of the lake at the end of the street. Look at it, look at it well, this star sparkled lake. Look at it well and know that it is where your life will end, in its cold depths.

I don't know your name, my precious child, I know nothing about you, and yet, you are so familiar to me. I must have dreamt you before. It's been so long that I'm waiting for you. And in all the others before, it's you I was seeking. They were only reflections, pale in comparison to you, my masterpiece.

And suddenly here you are, entering my field of vision, entering the stage. My muscles wind up like springs and I lung forward the second you come in reach. I grab you by the shoulders and pin you to the ground. I stop you from screaming for now, there are houses nearby. I look at your eyes, wide with terror. You've never seen anything has ugly as my face, have you? You've never been so scared, and rightly so.

I pick you up and I take you to the farthest bank. Here you can scream as much as you like, the sound will be blown away by the wind towards the forest where no one will hear you. But you remain speechless, you look at me and your eyes are so big, so bright with tears. I think you know, smart girl, little muggle, you know I won't spare you and your cries would only anger me more. Or more precisely, they would rejoice my savagery, exalt it to the sublime. And whether you like it or not I will hear the sound of your lovely voice singing for me tonight.

Your skin is so warm against my chest, our pulses so close, beating together, in unison. Your heart filled with terror and passion filling my heart. Your exquisite smell… I can't wait anymore. I can't refrain this desire for flesh, for blood, for death. You've haunted me for so many nights, dancing in my mind with your long hair and your scarlet lips, like a dream, like an obsession. I have followed and stalked you, waiting for the perfect time. And now, for the whole of tonight, you are mine.

When I let you fall to the ground and pounce on you, a moan escapes your throat. But you are brave, you're not begging, unlike many other before. Brave but conscious. No amount of supplication will save you.

My claws lacerate your chest, the arms you put up in defense, and your stomach. You scream, but this time it's from pain. Red everywhere, springing from your pale skin and splattering my face and my chest. You are drenched in this intoxicatingly alluring liquid. I lap up the warm blood from your skin and it glides on my tongue, sensuous, like the softest velvet. When I dig my fangs into your flesh, you stiffen and scream again.

Don't be afraid, my child, death isn't painful, only the way there, when all nerves are intertwined in the same agonizing symphony of suffering.

Soon, the pain has taken you in so fully that you can no longer cry out, you can't make the slightest of sound. You shiver but your strength has left you and you're not even fighting anymore. The only thing left of your eviscerated abdomen is a bloody abyss. Your breath is quick, shallow, desperate. You're holding on with everything you have to this last shard of life that is about it leave you. I stand up and I look at you. Your body has been torn to shreds, only the neck and the face are intact. You're looking back at me and in your eyes I can see suffering, surrender, fear, sadness and disbelief.

You are more beautiful than ever before in this strange in-between. From your gaze I can see that you are sinking within, in a nebulous limbo from which you won't return. You are lying in what is already your corpse but your eyes still glisten and your lips are still red. They tremble softly as in a stuttering whisper, trying to say a last few words that I will never hear.

I pick you up and walk towards the lake's black and rustling waters. Your head hangs sideways and you are watching with your tired and pained eyes. You are nothing more than a broken puppet, a rag doll, lighter than a child in my monstrous arms. I am thighs deep and I keep going, slowly, calmly, barely creasing the shiny surface. Once I can't go any deeper, I lay you there and, as if made of wind, you stay above, floating gently over those freezing waters. They will take your warmth and what is left of the life I stole from you. They will sublimate you for an instant, make your skin paler and your lips blue but then, they will destroy you even more than I did.

Soon I will push you under but as of now, my sweet little victim, I can contemplate this scene with a certain sense of pride. I still have the taste of your flesh on my tongue, your blood now flows in me. You are going to die and sink deep in this lake as in my unconscious. I will forget you, or think that I have but I will come back often in a dream, see this lake, your face and your fear. I will remember you, little girl, for this night is ours.

Your eyes are fixated on me. I think you're still afraid, you know it's not over yet, you know that as long as I have not left you, you will suffer. And as long as your lips are still red, with you I shall stay.


End file.
